Slam Poem- A Mourning Mother

Randomnocity

I see an idividualistic, slightly sadistic, people who are overly ritualistic.

A need seen is an assignment given, has been lost in, or forgotten, in a self centered world view that our parents have given.

And I hate that it takes all that we hate simply to motivate.

But my passion perpetuates the fact that we procrastinate until we are irate.

So sit down, shut up, and let me elaborate.

We've, Americans, raped a land, but not our own, so we can bath in materialistic overabundance that our TV's condone.

And it's that same media that broadcasts sorrow, that then quickly says, "up next sports and weather,"
so it can all be forgotten tomorrow.

As a nature that we call mother cries and dies, we under pay an oppressed people to ensure our unnecessary supplies arrive.

We've got hundreds of movies on demand, while the chemicals it took to make your jeans seep into the Thai land.

Our children safely fight over a truck called Tonka, while the people choke on the smoke from the plants in Sri Lanka.

And the moans and groans grow so loud, I can almost hear them now, as the ground in Africa and India feel the direct stress of our selfishness.

Then, when, the mother demonstrates her hate for our disdain, we're willing to send 35 million to say we're sorry and we feel your pain.